


all aboard

by sleeplessmiles



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scenes from 1x01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessmiles/pseuds/sleeplessmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘You seriously want me to go and pick them up,’ May repeats for the third time, her voice flat. </p><p>--</p><p>Melinda May meets FitzSimmons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all aboard

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr prompt. Hope you enjoy!

 

‘You seriously want me to go and pick them up,’ May repeats for the third time, her voice flat. It’s not that she doesn’t understand the request; she doesn’t need clarification here. What she needs is for him to change his mind.

Coulson, for his part, just looks bemused. ‘Like I said. They already turned in their car, so there’s no other way for them to get to the hangar. Seems a bit harsh to make them park a rental here indefinitely.’

Apparently done with the conversation, he turns to walk out of his office. May takes a calming, measured breath, reminding herself that she’s here to prolong his life rather than end it, before following.

‘There are other agents.’

He glances back at her. ‘Yes. But “other agents” aren’t going to be living with them.’

Undeterred, she changes tack.

‘Agent Ward – ’

‘ – God, no. I’m not sending Agent Ward out there. I don’t want to risk losing my scientists before we even take off.’ 

May barely suppresses a sigh. She’s looking forward to _that_ particular meeting.

‘They haven’t met me.’

‘That’s right. But they’re about to.’

One glance at the expression on his face and May knows that she’s lost this battle.

To be perfectly honest, she isn’t even sure why she’d been waging it so persistently in the first place. She’s the one who orchestrated this, after all. Fury told her to build the team, and that’s exactly what she did. And she’d given Fury several options, of course she had, but she’d known without a doubt that Coulson would pick these two, that he wouldn’t be able to resist their brilliance. Their bright-eyed idealism.

Agents Fitz and Simmons. She wants them on the plane, she really does.

She just doesn’t want to be the one to bring them here.

Because she can’t live behind the charade any longer, if she does this. The second she physically delivers them to the plane, she can give up on any shot she had at plausible deniability. Their being here would be 100% her doing.

As would any harm that should befall them.

May grits her teeth. She’d like to delay facing that particular reality for as long as she possibly can. 

‘You’re going to love them, May,’ he promises, voice a little gentler. She looks at the affectionate softness around Coulson’s eyes, recalls the quiet fondness on Fury’s face as he’d recommended them.

 _That’s what I’m afraid of,_ she thinks.

But she straightens her shoulders nonetheless. Orders are orders.

Carefully sidestepping Coulson, May heads for the garage, trying to inject her steps with anything but the feeling of impending dread that’s settling in her limbs.

She has to go pick up the kids.

 

-

-

 

‘Agent Melinda May,’ Fitz states loudly, reading off his tablet. ‘Transferred from – ’

‘ – Administration, yes. I know,’ Jemma replies, neatly closing the bag she’d been packing with various supplies. The lid zips up perfectly. She grins breathlessly across the lab at him, face conspiratorial. ‘Or, at least, that’s her cover.’

Fitz squints. ‘Wait a – her cover? What’s that s’pposed to mean?’ 

‘Fitz. _Really._ ’ At his continued confusion, she rolls her eyes. ‘This is _SHIELD_ , Fitz! Everybody has secrets.’

‘Yeah, but why would they lie about this? Seems a bit – ’

‘ – unnecessary?’

‘I was going to say _mean_ , but that works just as well,’ he mutters.

‘Well, what else is in the file?’ she asks deliberately, reaching to double-check the inventory on another case. Honestly, she hasn’t a clue why he’s only getting round to reading up on the rest of their colleagues _now_ , on the very day they’re to meet them – she’d had their personnel files memorised at least a week ago.

‘Ahh…’ he squints at the screen, before frowning. ‘Oh. She’s piloting the plane.’

‘Precisely.’ 

He looks up. ‘How’d she learn to fly a plane in Administration?’

‘That’s all I’m saying,’ Jemma replies pointedly, raising her eyebrows without looking up at him.

‘Well, that’s just unsettling.’

Jemma tuts, feeling an excited smile creep back onto her face. She’s barely been able to wipe it off all morning.

‘Isn’t it exhilarating, though? So much _mystery_.’

‘Oh, yeah, it’s great. Really fantastic,’ he says sarcastically, face glum.

‘Oh cheer up, Fitz.’ Placing the final case on top of the pile, Jemma then walks over to where he’s sitting. She blows a few flyaway tendrils of hair out of her eyes. ‘You’re going to love it.’

All she gets in reply is a faint grumbling under his breath, but she’s pretty used to that by this point.

‘How about this Agent Ward?’ Fitz asks. His voice sounds a little strange, but she doesn’t think much of it. 

‘Ah,’ Jemma says knowingly, turning back to check, once again, that they’ve packed all of the appropriate tech. You can never be too prepared. ‘The specialist.’

‘Bet he’s got loads of secrets, with a face like that,’ he sighs wistfully.

Jemma only grins.

 

-

-

 

This is the cost, May reminds herself as she walks through the hallways at Sci-Ops. This is the cost of keeping Phil Coulson alive and well. These kids – these _adults_ , she mentally corrects, these capable agents, they signed up for this. They’re brilliant. They’d have been snatched up for field duty eventually, whether May was the one who did it or not.

She’s not doing anything other than what’s required of her.

When May finally reaches their lab, she’s greeted by utter chaos.

There’s some sort of gadget flying around in midair. That’s probably the first thing she notices. The lab’s sole occupants, bright-eyed and bouncing about with unbridled enthusiasm, would have to be a close second, however.

The boy’s wandering around underneath the device, eyes locked on it from below as he plays with the controls in his hands, while the girl keeps dodging out of his absentminded path. The two of them are chattering back and forth, too, their voices are raised almost to the point of yelling, but there isn’t shred of animosity in it; they’re sheer excitement, all frenzied brainstorming. It’s just so startlingly carefree and innocent, and so utterly out of place in SHIELD’s world of hardened spies and espionage, that May feels something clench in her chest.

 _Run_ , she wants to tell them. _Leave this place,_ _and don’t look back._  

‘Oh!’ the girl exclaims, finally noticing that they have company. Her eyes go impossibly wide. May recognises her as Jemma Simmons immediately, even as the telltale English lilt spills from her lips and gives her away.

(It'd be hard to forget the face of the girl who'd smiled -  _smiled_ \- for her ID photo.)

Ignoring the way Agent Fitz seems to have tripped over himself to catch the device, May clears her throat.

‘I’m Agent Melinda – ’

‘ – May, yes I know,’ Simmons replies breathlessly, recovering admirably and scurrying over to stand in front of her. She’s grinning broadly. ‘You transferred from Administration.’

May doesn’t really know what to say to that – it’s not untrue – so she just stares. Simmons’ smile fades at the nonresponse, only the slightest amount, but her eyes widen even further in alarm.

‘I’m Agent Fitz,’ comes the called introduction from across the lab. Fitz is still hurriedly trying to pack up the little gadget with which they’d been playing when she arrived.

‘Oh! Yes, I’m Agent Simmons.’ There’s a slightly uncomfortable pause, and then she blurts, ‘Are you here to drive us to the hangar?’ 

May nods just the once, faintly impressed that the girl thought to ask instead of just following her blindly. It’s more consciousness of the situation than she’d expected from these kids – _agents_ , from these agents – who’d failed their field assessments, and while it doesn’t really count for much, it _is_ something.

They can work on it.

‘Oh, excellent,’ Simmons decides, voice endlessly enthusiastic. Bouncing a little, she turns on her heel and heads for the alarmingly large pile of luggage and equipment in the corner of the lab. She pauses in front of it, and May watches with unbridled interest as the girl begins to pick up what is, frankly, a ridiculous amount of bags. Pack after pack she loops onto her shoulders and elbows, awkwardly testing the weight as she goes, before apparently deciding she can carry no more.

She straightens up, teetering slightly on her feet. 

_Jesus Christ._

‘Here,’ May says simply, holding out a hand to help.

‘Oh! No, it’s quite alright, I can manage perfectly fine on my own.’ The smile she shoots May then is probably meant to be reassuring, but as she’s trying valiantly to not lose her balance, it’s more strained than anything else. May finds herself smiling faintly at the sight.

‘You’re on a team now, Agent Simmons,’ she cautions.

‘Then I best start pulling my weight,’ Simmons replies brightly, before staggering from the room. May watches her disappear from view, eyebrows raised, and then turns back to the lab’s other occupant.

Fitz has a massive pack on his back and a case in each hand, but he’s looking at her and shifting a little uncomfortably.

‘Uh, you can carry these. I mean. If you want to, because you said…’

May suppresses a small smile, reaching out to grab the cases. ‘Thank you, Agent Fitz.’ 

As she strides out to catch up with Simmons and take the lead – the girl having charged off without any knowledge of where, exactly, she’d been headed – May wonders at the vague pang of affection she’s feeling towards these bubbling scientists, happily chattering away behind her. She comes to a terrifying conclusion.

Oh, God. She’s being charmed by them.

 

-

-

 

The car ride is one of the most absurd of Melinda May’s life, if only because she’s realising that she never quite understood how thoroughly a silence can be filled before now. Agents Fitz and Simmons had kept up a steady stream of chatter and bickering as they’d packed the car, only stopping briefly to Roshambo over who gets to ride shotgun (Simmons had emerged triumphant, beaming smugly) before picking it right back up again.

May isn’t sure she’s heard them stop for breath.

‘… and if we can just miniaturise the dispersion mechanism a sufficient amount, it wouldn’t be an issue any longer, and I’m sorry but we’re terribly curious – where did you learn to fly a plane?’

They fall suddenly silent, and almost with a jolt, May realises they’re talking to her. She can see Simmons out of the corner of her eye, the girl having rotated in her chair to regard May curiously, and a quick check of the rearview mirror shows her that Fitz is staring at her just as raptly.

It’s vaguely unsettling, being the sole focus of that much energy. 

‘At the Academy,’ she says simply.

Silence reigns for a few moments, and May realises that she’s really thrown them a curveball here. They must have assumed she’d come from the Communications division, using her stint in Administration as a reference point. She glances across at Simmons, who’s frowning as she thinks over this new piece of information, and May finds herself smirking a little.

Either they’re re-evaluating their understanding of her, or they’re drastically re-evaluating their understanding of the Academy’s Communications branch.

But it’s the first moment of silence she’s gotten since she met them.

When she finally pulls in at the hangar, the excitement level in the car has ratcheted up about 300%. Something plummets in her chest as she kills the engine. 

There, she thinks. It’s done. I delivered them. Let the chips fall where they may.

(It doesn’t stop the vague sense of unease roiling within her.)

Impossibly, however, for the first time she’s also feeling a little tickle of rapt anticipation about the whole thing. It’s happening, now. She’s in this. There’s peace in that.

This FitzSimmons brand of excitement is almost contagious, it seems.

Climbing out of the car, May turns to address her charges. ‘You’ve seen the lab,’ she states.

‘Yes, we were here last week to set up a little,’ Simmons quickly provides, voice bright.

‘We’ve seen the avionics bay too.’

‘And the storage areas.’ 

‘Not the rest of the plane, though.’

‘I mean, we _have_ studied the designs – ’

‘ – _extensively_ – ’

‘ – but we’ve yet to actually see it.’

They look at her hopefully, eyes large and pleading, as though she’s honestly going to confine them to the lab. As though they need to be granted explicit permission to enter into the living space. May resists the urge to sigh, but only just.

‘Grab your personal belongings and follow me.’ 

‘What about the rest of our equipment?’ Fitz asks, looking worried as he slings a bag onto his back.

‘There are agents to take care of it,’ she replies, signalling to a few men who are standing around and doing very little.

Her – no, the, _the_ scientists – move forward almost as one.

‘Hey, uh, be careful with those, will you?’ Fitz calls out. Simmons is beside him, nodding emphatically. 

‘The contents are quite fragile, so just – ’

‘ – handle with extreme care.’

Apparently satisfied, they turn back to May then, twin expressions of expectant eagerness on their faces.

God help her, these kids are _green_. 

She nods once, and then goes to ascend the stairs. (She hears them scramble to follow her, and her eyes flutter shut briefly at the clumsy clunking sounds.)

The ‘tour’ doesn’t take long. May knows they’ve got a new lead on the Rising Tide case, so she quickly shows them around the living area, pointing out the important features and watching them drink it all in with rapt, wide-eyed enthusiasm.

She eventually finds herself standing near the bar, the two young agents gazing at her expectantly. Jemma’s face is pleased, pensive, whereas Fitz just looks vaguely terrified. Maybe it’s the opulence of the plane making them look like that. Hopefully it’s not her.

May narrows her eyes a little, evaluating.

Yeah. It’s probably her.

‘Well, thank you, Agent May,’ Fitz eventually says, blessedly breaking the silence.

‘Oh, yes, of course! We’ll go get the lab all properly set-up,’ Simmons explains, overeager. ‘Won’t we, Agent Fitz?’

‘Yeah,’ he agrees, nodding with a small smile.

‘It’ll be in tip top shape in no time at all, don’t you worry Agent May.’ 

May only blinks at them in response. The nervous smile slips off Simmons’ face a little, and Fitz elbows her, not as subtle as he probably thinks he is. Simmons startles.

‘Right. Bye!’ She lifts a hand to somewhere around her waist, giving May – oh, God, she’s waving. She’s _waving_. Then the two of them turn and hurry back off towards the lab.

May exhales.

Alright then. It’s done.

When she turns around, Coulson’s standing a few paces away. She takes great care to ensure that her face remains even, that her steps don’t falter as she walks past. 

His expression is insufferably smug. 

‘Told you you’d like them.’

She won’t roll her eyes. She won’t give him the satisfaction.

‘I’m going to check on the Rising Tide search, see if we got any hits,’ is all she tells him, voice brusque. When she’s finally alone again, she draws in the deepest breath she can muster, before releasing it as slowly as she dares.

This is a terrible idea.

 

-

-

 

‘Well. That was something,’ Fitz announces as they walk down the stairs to the lab. 

‘You mean Agent May?’ Jemma asks, smiling gently. ‘I like her.’

And she does. The woman didn’t share much, and Jemma can see how, on first assessment, May might come across as rather cold, but there’s a softness to her. There’s warmth in her eyes. Jemma feels infinitely safer knowing she’s flying the plane, potentially shady secrets be damned.

Fitz looks across at her. ‘You do.’

‘Yes, of course! You don’t?’

‘Well, it was a bit hard getting to know her from the three words she said to us.’

Jemma’s scoffing before he’s even finished his sentence, reaching the base of the stairs. ‘That’s such an unfair exaggeration!’ 

‘She barely even spoke – ’

‘ – she’s quiet! It doesn’t mean she’s not nice.’ As one, they lean down and grab a case each from the pile of their stuff, walking into the lab. 

‘Did I say that? I just think it’d be nice if people round here were easier to read, that’s all.’

Jemma scrunches her face in disbelief. ‘Oh, like you’d be able to read them then anyway.’

‘Excuse me?’ he exclaims, voice high-pitched and incredulous.

 

-

-

 

One hit on the Rising Tide search later, May listens over the intercom as the scientists bicker and banter, interrupted only by the occasional sigh and tensely-worded response from Agent Ward.

Yep. 

Terrible idea.

But, against her better judgement, she puts the Bus into flight anyway. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
